Category: Autumn

When God bears fruit in our lives

Give Thanks

I am grateful to live in a country that intentionally sets aside a day to give thanks. As humans, we often let the day devolve into a day of political arguments, old scores, and overdoing it. I. like the biblical Martha, tend to focus on logistics and preparation and miss the important thing.

God gives us this day, this food, our breath, what little strength we have. (Deut. 8:11-18) God gives us the opportunity to live in communion with Himself, the giver of all good things, the creator of the universe, and the Lord of heaven’s armies.

This is the true gift for which I want to give thanks:

The word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory of the father’s only son, full of grace and truth. John 1:14

who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself. Philippians 2:8

He calls us to “abide with him.” (John 15)

Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me…remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age. Matthew 28:16,20.

So,

If we have died with him, we will also live with him;

if we endure, we will also reign with him;

if we deny him, he will also deny us;

 if we are faithless, he remains faithful – for he cannot deny himself. 2 Timothy 2:11-13.

Thanks be to God! His faithful love endures forever!

Love in Christ, Betsy

Plans

I planned to plant my garlic this weekend, after the first hard frost. But a warm spell has made my iris come up, so I think I will wait. I fear if I plant them now, they will expend all their energy sending up scapes instead of developing bulbs.

Best laid plans. Man plans and God laughs. (Not an actual quote of Proverbs 16:9).

It’s got me thinking about planning. I do a lot of it this time of year. Planning for Thanksgiving, for holiday activities, for family gatherings, for next year. And planning for the garden. What to plant, where, and when. What needs to be done before I plant. Lots of planning and scheduling.

Where is God in all this planning? He must be front and center. He controls the weather, so I need to be flexible for when He brings warmth and frost, rains and droughts. All my plans may be sidetracked tomorrow by a sudden illness or accident.

I spent one December homebound with two sick children. Pre-internet or amazon, so gifts were sparse. Not what I had planned.

This fall, a group of women and I are discussing “respectable sins,” you know, those ones we often laugh about – irritation, frustration, cynicism, vanity, pride, fear, worry. At root is often a lack of faith in God, His love for us and His knowledge of what we need. Sometimes, we fail to cede our will to His and instead tell Him what to do and get upset when he doesn’t do it. We stomp our feet and hold our breath, figuratively if not literally.

My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet not what I want, but what you want. Matthew 26:39.

Can you imagine? And I think a delay in planting my garlic bulbs is inconvenient?

What would happen if I didn’t plant them until December? Until February? Never? What if I didn’t have cranberries at Thanksgiving or never decorated my mailbox for Christmas? Are any of these things worthy of irritation or anxiety?

I still plan to plant my garlic, serve cranberries, and decorate my mailbox. But if none of that happens, that is okay, too. (At least, I plan to be okay with it!!) Because none of those things are important in the big picture of my relationship with God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. What is important is that I deepen my relationship with Him.

Jesus tells us to “Seek first the kingdom of God” (Matthew 6:33). I think of this as seeking first His presence. Not just first thing in our day, but also first in priority. More important than gardens, or menus, or decorations. More important than my plans. Easier said than done when I am caught up in the hustle and bustle of my desires.

Perhaps I will take a moment to wonder at the beauty of iris pushing through the ground and reaching for the sun in November. Maybe I will revel at the beauty of the leaves that still cling to the trees and feel the sun on my face. Perhaps none of my plans are as important as praising God for His goodness right now in this moment.

After all, who am I to questions God’s plans or think mine may be more important?

As God reminds Job:

Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding. Job 38:4.

I’m inviting God into my planning this season. I’m asking Him what His plans are. I pray that I will conform my plans to His. Will you join me?

Love in Christ, Betsy

Tarps

For as long as I have had a garden, I have had weeds in my garden. My husband and I designed our garden space around the dimensions of weed barrier cloth, but that only keeps the weeds suppressed under the cloth. They soon resurface. I have spent hot hours pulling weeds. I have paid others to pull them. I have even considered elevated beds so grass from my yard wouldn’t invade my garden space. Of course, I would have to fill the raised beds with weed-free dirt, which probably doesn’t exist.

My efforts may have kept weeds at bay or out of sight for a while, but they always come back. I know people who love to weed, love to see the pristine results of their daily diligence. But daily diligence is not my strong suit. I reserve what little talent I have for that to devotional time and brushing my teeth. Nothing else receives daily attention.

So, there have always been weeds in my garden.

I am trying something new (to me) this year – occultation taps. These heavy-duty tarps block sunlight, UV rays, and water. The white underbelly of the tarp heats the soil, so the weed seeds germinate, and then kills them, leaving you with a weed-free garden to plant. Fingers crossed.

I put the tarps over my garlic beds about a month ago while it was still warm. I plan to plant garlic within the week, so we shall see. I also covered the sugar snap beds. Although occultation is only supposed to take a few weeks, I will leave my sugar snap beds covered until I plant them in late February or early March. Hopefully, we will have enough warm days over the winter for the tarps to work.

These tarps aren’t cheap or particularly easy to manipulate. It makes me wonder about the lengths I will go to get what I want, without submitting to the proven method of daily weeding. Is this stubborn orneriness? And if so, where else does it raise its head?

If you have read my musings for long, you know that I often talk about weeds. Perhaps I should spend more time talking about the wonders and joys of having a garden. Just before I took the above photo, I picked five ripe raspberries and one ripe fig from my garden. A November gift. Sweet and juicy, they were a divine reminder of why I have a garden. The fruit is worthy of any and all aggravation.

When we talk about the Christian life, what do we talk about? Do we only talk about the joyous fruit of communion with God, the times when we sense His presence, feel His love, hear His voice? Or do we talk more about the struggle of not conforming to the world, of keeping the weeds of self-interest, pride, and irritation at bay?

Neither one tells the whole story. Because, like my garden, the Christian life contains both glorious fruit and troublesome weeds. Green pastures and valleys of shadows, wondrous feasts and the presence of enemies. (Psalm 23)

I fear we tend to emphasis one over the other. I know a woman who couldn’t go to her big screen church after her husband died because she didn’t feel joyous enough to worship God. I know a man who attends a church where discussion is discouraged and congregants are spoon-fed “correct” answers to complicated issues. And I know that I am prone to dive into the struggles and difficulties and fail to share the absolute joy I find in communing with God.

I look forward to a weed-free garden. Until then,

By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. John 13:35.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Salt

I’ve been thinking a lot about salt recently. A friend of mine has a dozen different colors and flavors of salt. I have Morton’s. We both use salt on a regular basis. I bet you do too. Salt is in everything, as those of who have had to limit its intake can attest.

Salt makes food taste better. It’s just a rock, a crystallized mineral. It takes no action on its own. It didn’t rise out the ground eight thousand years ago and tell the ancient Balkans, Bulgarians, and Chinese that it could change their lives. They found this mineral in springs and rocks. They experimented with it, tasted it, and rubbed it on the most recent animal kill. They let it dissolve in water and soaked their aging vegetables in it.

What an amazing and life changing gift from the earth, from God. And it is just there for our use. Sometimes just sitting in rocks beside streams for animals to lick on their way past. Sure, we humans have mined it, processed it, commercialized it, and fought over it. But that is because salt is vital and necessary to our survival.

Salt not only makes things taste better. It is an essential element, a necessary electrolyte to keep us healthy and functioning. Salt is used in brining and pickling and smoking and canning, allowing for the safe preservation of our food. We gargle salt to heal our mouth sores and soak in it to heal our wounds. Salt is also used in chemical processes, water treatment, land stabilization, and de-icing.

You are the salt of the earth. Matthew 5:13.

Can our mere presence make this much of a difference to the world around us? Can we, by simply being available, add flavor to other’s lives, preserve their dignity, enhance their lives, and cure their ailments? Are we an essential element in each other’s lives?

Salt can also corrode, destroy, and kill. It has long been used to eradicate weeds. Conquering armies would salt grain fields to prevent growth. I’ve heard it’s deadly to slugs. The salty breeze from the ocean destroys a/c units, corrodes paint, and rusts the chairs. Road salt eats away your car’s paint and makes the metal rust. Too much salt in your diet causes hypertension and can be fatal. Ingesting salt water can lead to hallucinations and death.

So, is salt a preserver or a killer? Does it enhance life or corrode it? As eager as we are to classify things as ‘good’ or ‘bad,’ salt is just salt. It is not making any moral choices or grappling with complexities. We slap those attributes on it based on what it feels like to us in the moment.

Some people struggle to say that God is good. How could such a loving God do such and so? He gives us life. He flavors it and enhances it and preserves it. At times He seems to destroy it. I can’t see the world as He sees it. I don’t think I even want to. God is God. I will not slap my moral judgement on His actions.

Jesus tells we are the salt of the earth and urges us not to lose our saltiness. The thing is that salt never loses its saltiness. It’s what it is. We sense it as “unsalty” when it has been diluted. With too much water, too much starch, salt can be absorbed by its environment. But it is still salt.

We are here to flavor and enhance and cure. We may be called upon to destroy – false gods, heretical beliefs, sin in our lives. We, His children, are salt. He sends us out into the world to be – salt.

You shall not omit from your grain offering the salt of the covenant with your God; with all your offerings you shall offer salt. Leviticus 2:13.

You are the salt, my friend. Not because you have made yourself salt, but because God made you salt.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Connected and Important

I inhale still morning air, damp with the overnight rain. Even the birds are quiet this morning, sleeping in, observing the sabbath. Or maybe it’s just too early. The cloud cover keeps the sun hidden and the cooler temperatures urge us to nestle in our beds.

The smell of summer has passed. No tart tomato leaves or scents of wild onions or grass clippings. The air is damp and dying. Leaves gather and decay along the driveway. Soon the shorten hours of sunlight will bring out the vibrant oranges, reds, and yellows of the trees, but this morning there is only stillness, as if the world waits in anticipation, in preparation.

Sometimes I am brought to my knees by the amazing complexity of the world around me. Distant worlds that rotate while suspended in the air by unseen forces. Bumblebees and butterflies go about their daily tasks and thereby ensure the survival of thousands of plant species. Trees stretch unground, toss their seeds into the wind, and provide homes and nourishment for all kinds of animals.

What a gift to be part of this dynamic, interconnected, and diverse community! What a blessing to stand in my yard and sense how God makes us all dependent on each other, on all His creation. I am every bit as much a part of His endless creation as the blades of grass, the trees, and the bumblebees. And the animals that live all around me – birds, and possums, and squirrels, and mice, and ants, and worms, and gnats. As well as the hundreds of different plants that grow at my feet, in the hedgerow, along the creek, in the creek. The world, the world in which He put us, is an amazing place.

Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth. Worship the Lord with gladness; come into his presence with signing. Know that the Lord is God. It is he who made us, and we are his; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture. Psalm 100:1-3.

One of the things that science has discovered is that even the tiniest, most insignificant creatures in nature are vital to the health of the planet. The worms, the microbes, the fungi, the bees. Even the scary, bad ones. If you haven’t seen the story about the reintroduction of wolves to Yellowstone, watch it here now. Wolves changed the ecosystem, the landscape, and the biodiversity of Yellowstone.

Each of us, every person, every animal, every insect and bird, every plant, has a role in God’s earth. We are not merely tamers of it or custodians of it or savers of it. We are part of it. The eye cannot say to the foot, “I have no need of you.” (I Corinthians 12:21)

I’m not making a political statement. I am just awed by how God made us all interconnected and interdependent. God is an all-powerful creator who made galaxies and volcanic mountains. God also designed delicate flower petals, created intricate designs in snowflakes and spider webs, and developed complex DNA stands and molecular structures. He is concerned with all the little things that work together to create the big picture.

I dare say that He is concerned with how you spend your day today, with how I spend my day.

We are a part of his creation, a small but significant part. We can acknowledge that or pretend that our lives don’t matter, any more than the life of a bumblebee or a wolf matters, or the leaves on a tree matter. They do. They have a purpose. You have a purpose. I have a purpose. We are all important in the intricate, beautiful, and awe-inspiring thing called life on this earth.

Enter his gates with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise. Give thanks to him, bless his name. For the Lord is good; his steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness is to all generations. Psalm 100:4-5.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Rain

Into every life a little rain must fall. Save for a rainy day. As if rain were a bad thing.

My brother-in-law and I planned to spend this weekend pressure washing and resealing the lake house deck. The pressure washing took place on a sunny, warm day, but the resealing was postponed – rain was in the forecast.

Rain often interferes with our plans. It snarls traffic and forces us to adapt to its presence. But as a gardener, I know that rain is essential. Water is essential – for life, for growth, for bearing fruit.

My creek has been dry for weeks, the grass has turned brown, and leaves drop brittle and cracked. We needed this rain.

When I was younger, major weather events were often referred to as “Acts of God.” Hurricanes, earthquakes, tornados, flooding – all “Acts of God.” Now we refer to them, and a host of other variations from the norm, as “extreme weather conditions.” As if God were not a factor, did not create the world, did not establish weather patterns and variations in it.

Our weather derives from an amazing and complex balance of factors, including solar flares from millions of miles away, the churning magma at the center of our planet, gravitational pulls, and variations in the atmospheres beyond our reach. These forces interact with a myriad of factors within our reach – water and trees and ecological diversity, as well as man-made factors – to lead our forecasters to predict rainy or sunny days.

Sometimes weather events happen that we don’t remember having happened before. They have. Our lives are short compared with the earth’s. In 1811 and 1812, major earthquakes along the Mississippi River caused it to flow backward and create Reelfoot lake. 1815 was dubbed “The year without a summer” after a volcanic eruption in Indonesia caused the coldest summer on record in Europe. If we had had a twenty-four-hour international news cycle at the time, this decade would have had us in a panic.

Then he said to them, “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues, and there will ne dreadful portents and great signs from heaven.” Luke 21:10-11.

Are these ‘Acts of God?’ Somehow, these cataclysmic events have not destroyed the earth or its inhabitants. Perhaps they have worked to stabilize the planet and create an even better environment for those of us who live here. Perhaps from a distance, from God’s perspective, earthquakes and volcanos and rainfall and drought are threads in a weaving that yields beauty and strength and durability.

I stand beside my little creek and listen to the faint gurgle as the water flows over the rocks. The breeze cools my cheeks, and leaves flutter to the ground beside me. Such a simple little creek flowing through what once was farmland on its way to the Harpeth River, to the Mississippi, to the ocean. Alive now with the recent rain. Sunlight filters through the trees and bounces back to me in the water. I sense the hand of God in this place, in this moment. Because a little rain fell.

Yet he has not left himself without a witness in doing good – giving you rains from heaven and fruitful seasons, and filling you with food and your hearts with joy. Acts 14:17.

Perhaps even a gentle rainfall is an act of God. Perhaps it is a result of the complex system that only a wise and wonderful God could create.

We can see rain as a bad thing; we can see a lot of things as “bad” when they aren’t what we want in the moment. But my little creek is reminding me that rain can be a very good thing, a gift, a witness to God’s good and loving nature.

Let it pour.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Pesto

The cool morning air chills my cheeks. Fall seems to have finally arrived. Soon it will be time to plant the garlic and cover the ground for the winter. Today, the basil calls me.

The cooler weather means the basil will soon die. Already her leaves yellow. Soon, I will no longer be able to pick fresh basil to add to my salads, my pizza, my sauces. Today, I need to preserve that flavor and aroma for colder months. Today, I need to make pesto.

My history with pesto is short and not illustrious. In the garden, the plant grows faster than my need for it, especially as I only cook for one – and that rarely. But the scent of basil on my hands makes the growing of it worthwhile, and the taste is heavenly.

My first attempts at making pesto were poor. I didn’t have the correct equipment or ingredients. I was “winging it,” as I am prone to do, and the results were thick, bitter, and black. Too much garlic, too much parmesan, not enough oil, not enough lemon juice.

I have made several small batches since then, working on the texture and taste that appeals to me. The recipes are fairly consistent, and not difficult, but my lack of precision lends variety to my batches. Even with this year-end batch, most of which I will freeze, I ran out of lemon juice and made the last batch with lime juice. I kinda like it!

As I enjoy my pesto on pasta, I give thanks that God created such pleasures for my senses. The vestiges of the Puritans which still echo in our society tell us sensual pleasure is a sin. But God made such amazing aromas and tastes and textures. God gave us the ability to smell and taste and sense. He wants us to appreciate these marvelous gifts He gives us. Not to excess, of course; not to the point that the gift becomes more important than the giver, but what a gift!

You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things, and by your will they were created and existed. Revelation 4:11.

He created a world filled with beauty and flavor and aromas and an endless array of tactile experiences. Not all of them are lovely. Not everything smells as good as basil or tastes as good as pesto. But isn’t that the beauty as well? The world would be a drab place if everything were the same. (Images from dystopian movies fill my head!)

Henry Van Dyke, the noted poet and theologian from the turn of the 20th century, reminds us that the “the woods would be very silent if no birds sang except those who sang best.” While he was encouraging us to use our God-given talents no matter how inadequate they may seem, he also speaks to the beautiful and joyful noise created by different birds’ unique voices. Or different humans’ unique voices. Or different flavors and aromas and textures. What beauty there can be in a diverse array of thoughts and ideas and attitudes and talents and looks and abilities if all are joined to give thanks and glory to God.

Without being joined with the nuts and cheese and garlic and oil and lemon juice, the basil leaves would wither on the vine or brown on the kitchen sink. Now they have been transformed into a delicious sauce that will bring flavor and joy to my meals for months to come.

God saw everything that he had made. And indeed, it was very good. And there was evening and there was morning, the sixth day. Genesis 1:31.

May you rejoice in God’s glorious creation today and give thanks for the multitude of sight and sounds and smells that fill your day.

Love in Christ, Betsy

A garden at Rest

I take my coffee and step outside, inhaling the cool morning air. Geese honk as they fly in formation against a cloudless blue sky. The grass is still green and wet with dew. Warm weather has kept the leaves green, but little pops of color are peeking through. October is a wonderful time to be outside.

I walk my garden, but there is nothing to see, nothing that demands my attention this morning. The basil still grows. I will need to make a batch of pesto before it gets too cold for the plant, but not today. My raspberry and fig still bear fruit, one fig and three or four raspberries a week. Nothing to pick this morning, but their perseverance impresses me.

Soon I will need to pull up the old cardboard and lay a tarp over the ground for the winter. This is a technique one of you suggested as an alternative method of reducing weeds (Thanks LS!), but it won’t happen today.

Today, my garden and I are at rest.

Not all my idleness is restful. Often, I am caught up in books or movies or football games and the hours spent sitting leave me exhausted, or worse, agitated. This is what the people in Jesus’ time were missing about the Sabbath. The rules that kept people idle had generated so much stress that the Sabbath was no longer restful, no longer a day of rest.

Rest comes from the confidence that God has our situation in His hands, and He loves us. It is not always time to plant, to harvest, to work in the garden. Sometimes, it is time to rest.

I can’t speak for you, but rest is hard for me to accept. I want to wrest my situation from God’s hands, take charge, devise a plan, and make it happen. Why put anything off until tomorrow? The world in which I live supports this kind of thinking. We are supposed to be doing something, striving toward a goal, expanding our social group, moving up through the ranks, being all that we can be.

For a few years, when people asked me what I did, I said “Nothing.” You can imagine the reactions I got. I later amended that to say, “I entertain myself well.” Now I say I write, but that always leads to questions about publication and what I am working on and my plans for the future. Perhaps I should say I’m at rest.

Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. Matthew 11:29

This time of rest is good for the garden. Plants take nutrients and water from the soil, and the earth needs time to replenish these. All the little critters and microorganisms in the ground need uninterrupted time to turn dirt into nutrient-rich soil. The garden at rest is not idle; it is resting. Similar to what happens when we sleep, the garden at rest is busy below the surface.

The world can’t see it. I can’t see it. But I know God is in action preparing the garden for the future demands I will make on it. Like sleep prepares us for the next day. Like this time of rest prepares me for what God has in store for me.

For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life. Ephesians 2:10.

Will you join me and my garden and rest today? No stress, no agitation, no wresting your life out of God’s hands. Just rest. Breath in the cool air. Listen to the geese. Admire the cloudless blue sky. Trust God. He created this world, and He loves you.

Love in Christ, Betsy

Garden Shoes

I first posted this in 2023. Couldn’t get it off my mind, so I am starting October with a first-ever repeat!

They sit by the back door expectantly, waiting for me to slip them on. Worn out, worn in, scuffed and muddy and comfortable, these are my garden shoes.

I slip them on before I head to the garden. The yard, covered in dew, strewn with grass clippings, muddy from the recent rains, and riddled with thorny plants and industrious bees, can be a messy place. Inside my shoes, my feet are dry and clean and safe.

Without these shoes, dedicated to this less than glamorous role in life, either my feet would be in peril, or my fancier shoes would be.

Their appearance in no way diminishes their importance, quite the opposite. It is their worn out, worn in, scruffy, muddy, comfortable countenance that gives them value, makes them perfect for the role of garden shoe.

But God has so arranged the body, giving the greater honor to the inferior member, that there may be no dissension within the body, but the members may have the same care for one another. 2 Corinthians 12:24-25.

Has God assigned you a less than glamorous role in life? Are you worn out, scruffy, and covered in yard debris? Do you feel like an “inferior member?” Haven’t we all felt that way at some point?

Maybe your infant has just thrown up on your one clean shirt, or your mom has wandered down the street in her pajamas looking for the dog that died three years ago. Maybe the dishes have piled up in the sink and toilet backed up in the bathroom. Maybe your boss has trashed your work and told you to start again, again. Maybe your body has failed you, leaving only wishes with no option of action.

You have a very crucial role in the kingdom of God. You are every bit as much a part of God’s garden as the ministers and the missionaries.

In a large house, there are utensils not only of gold and silver, but also of wood and clay, some for special use, some for ordinary. 2 Timothy 2:20.

And all are valuable. Could you imagine using your silver goblet to measure flour? The silver goblet may be shiny and precious and placed where all can see, but the plastic measuring cup far more useful, more functional, more necessary, and more important to daily life.

I wouldn’t wear my garden shoes to a ladies’ luncheon, but I depend on them.

And Jesus tells us that God values the less glamorous servants highly.

Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all. Mark 9:35. (Also Matthew 20:26, Luke 22:26.)

Maybe in the tables-turned, topsy-turvy Kingdom of Heaven, God will give my garden shoes the place of honor.

Maybe in the tables-turned, topsy-turvy kingdom of Heaven, God will give the parent, the caregiver, the housekeeper, the worker, and the invalid seats of honor.

So the last will be first, and the first will be last. Matthew 20:16. (Also Matthew 19:30.)

So, if you are feeling like a worn-out pair of garden shoes today, take heart. If we are following Jesus, He will give us the work He needs us to do, glamorous or not. His Spirit within us will make us “dedicated and useful to the owner of the house, ready for every good work.” (2 Timothy 2:21.)

My garden shoes wait patiently for me to slip them on. Just a little walk out to the garden, around and through it, then back inside. Job done; they rest. How happy these shoes make me, doing their little job so well. I do not see their age, their misshapen body, their dirty exterior covered in yard debris; I see their faithful, useful, service.

Well done, good and faithful servant, You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master. Matthew 25:21.

 Love in Christ, Betsy

Seagulls

They stood like sentinels facing into the wind, aware of me but far enough away to maintain their ground.

I watched as one seagull plummeted repeatedly into the shallow waters offshore. Perhaps they were watching him as well.

At last, he lifted from the water with a small fish sideways in his beak. Squawking loudly through his clinched bill, he circled around to the birds on shore and landed among them. Most of the gulls hopped over to inspect his prize, or being seagulls, to steal it. I have watched them try to pry fish from a pelican’s beak.

The victorious gull rose into the air and circled out into the ocean again, screeching and squawking. He made a wide circle over the waters and returned to the herd of gulls on the shore. I wondered why he didn’t land somewhere away from the others to enjoy his meal.

Five birds hopped over to him again as he continued his loud boasting. Again, he lifted off and flew a wide circle over the waters and returned to the crowd. Only two birds responded to his constant screech as he landed, the small fish still gripped firmly in his beak. Perhaps he was more interested in showing off his success than eating his meal.

Been there; done that.

When he circled again with his uneaten fish, the other gulls ignored him when he landed and so did I. I closed my eyes to the sun and listened to the waves. I listened to the full-throated warble of a gull whose bill was not clamped tightly on a fish, and I heard the continued screeching of boastful fish catcher.

I don’t know if he ever ate the fish, I lost interest in his repetitive attempts to impress the crowd. I rather hope he dropped the fish and other gulls ate it, but that is, perhaps, unkind. He did make the effort to catch the fish. I have watched diving birds enough to know that it is not an easy thing to do. I wish for his sake that the fish would have been a reward enough for his efforts.

Beware of practicing your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them, for then you will have no reward from your Father who is in heaven. Thus, when you give to the needy, sound no trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may be praised by others. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you. Matthew 6:1-4.

What fish am I holding in my beak and squawking about today? What act of generosity do I trumpet in the streets? What righteousness am I practicing just to be noticed by others?

The waves are calling. The wind sends them crashing on the shore and makes the heat bearable. There are seagulls standing on the shore, staring at the ocean, unaffected by their bragging neighbors. Perhaps their only focus is to appreciate the beauty of God’s creation and give thanks for His bountiful gifts.

I think I’ll join them.

Love in Christ, Betsy